


Parks are for Joggers and Dogs

by crashmaker (csgb)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilbo is a horny idiot, Dog!Smaug - Freeform, M/M, Thorin is also a horny idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csgb/pseuds/crashmaker
Summary: Bilbo is walking Smaug in the park when he meets an extremely attractive jogger named Thorin. Bilbo instantly turns into an idiot.
Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Bofur, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 29
Kudos: 59





	1. Park

**Author's Note:**

  * For [objectlesson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/objectlesson/gifts).



"Smaug! Get back here!" A small black terrier, tongue out, his red leash flying behind like a war banner, barked and ran down the path, just out of Bilbo's reach. Bilbo swore under his breath as he continued to weave through people who were just simply walking, living their best dog-free lives.

Throughout the park you could hear the sounds of a British voice saying in a harried voice "Sorry, excuse me, I do beg your pardon!" It was as if Bilbo were a toy with preset phrases and it just kept going on repeat as he chased his friend's dog. It wasn't even his dog. 

Really, why in the world am I doing this, Bilbo Baggins thought to himself. I'm terrible with dogs, and now I'm running and it's dreadful.

Yet he kept going, chasing after what would be seen by outsiders to be a cute puppy. But Bilbo knew better. Oh yes, to other people the dog would be on its best behaviour, but once Bilbo and Smaug were alone, the little creature went ballistic and would run around yapping for a walk, and once the walk happened it became a run, which would eventually lead to this.

Bilbo was not a runner. He was barely a walker, let alone a jogger. He prefered to be home, sitting in an armchair, eating freshly baked cookies and settling in with glasses perched on his nose and, oh no, Smaug was now fighting with another dog. 

And it was a huge white dog that was going to definitely bite the tiny terrier and then Bilbo would have to explain to Bofur and Bard why their dog was eaten.

"Excuse me! I'm so sorry, that's my dog!" wheezed out Bilbo, hands on his knees, his sweat dripping onto his shadow on the sunny pavement, then holding onto the end of the red leash. Smaug faced down the large white dog without a care in the world before turning toward Bilbo with a cocked head. Cute little bugger.

A familiar nasally voice responded to him above his sweaty hot head. "A dog? Your dog? When did you get a dog? You never told us," Bilbo looked up and swallowed a curse. 

Standing in the summer sun with a wide brimmed hat and big designer sunglasses was his cousin, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

Bilbo was too tired for this. "Hello cousin.” Bilbo decided to ignore Lobelia's eyeroll, although he was already thinking up when would be the most devastating time he could throw a good eyeroll back. "How pleasant to see you. It's not my dog, it's Bard's dog. You do know Bard right? My friend Bofur's fiance? They're getting married in July? Did you get your invitation in the mail?"

He knew for a fact that she was not invited, and also that Lobelia would have rather swallowed a block of wood than sit through another dinner with Bofur as a party guest, let alone a wedding.

"No, I did not. Good day cousin, I'll see you at the family reunion next year. I do hope you know that next time your plus one should be for a partner, not a friend. Send Bofim my best regards. Come along Sharkey." And with that final rude remark, Lobelia dragged her white Borzoi with her, as it whined and yipped.

It seemed like Lobelia’s noxious presence had an effect on Smaug, as the small dog whined and hid between Bilbo’s feet. He knelt down and patted the creature before looking up and spotting a green bench in the shade. 

Bilbo sighed with relief the second he sat down, and looked up at the green leaves above him. The sound of the people around him faded into the background as he closed his eyes. 

A lovely summer day in San Francisco... Bilbo didn't think life could be this peaceful. Maybe better if somehow extended family didn't live in a city you moved away to in order to get away from said family, but sometimes life hands you obnoxious lemons in the form of horrid cousins who open a chain of lifestyle boutiques on the west coast of America instead of staying in jolly old England—but you can't have it all, he supposed. Bilbo took a deep breath and, why yes, that was the scent of some solid grade A weed, and honestly maybe that was part of why he moved here. Can't get good weed in his little pokey village back home.

He opened his eyes and looked at the water, the sun beating down on the path, and Bilbo felt like he was melting into the bench despite the shade of the tree. People were sitting around on the grass, the sounds of people washing over him. Letting him know that here he wasn't really anybody here and that he could become invisible. Bilbo sunk deeper into the bench but this time in contentment.

Of course, peace was never an option with Smaug around, and the yapping thing started to tug at the leash and Bilbo sat up. "Oh no you don't you—" and Bilbo had to stop as he saw a jogger come towards him.

Bilbo supposed that the first thing that he noticed was the hair. The beard— no not just that, but a mane of dark full hair, that couldn't really be contained despite the messy bun. Sharp eyes that looked straight ahead on his path, with a captivating shade of blue. But of course then there was his face yes, but also that body.

The tank-top clung tight... But was loose at the same time? Bilbo's mind boggled while his heart sent a prayer of thanks to the maker of slutty athletic clothes, because the hole for the arms was so open Bilbo could basically see everything, but also it stretched over the man's impressive pecs. The shorts were tight and the defined muscles of the jogger's thighs were— but also, was it correct to have everything so visible? Is it possible to be arrested for indecent exposure despite not exposing anything? And there was sweat dripping down and getting soaked into the grey of the top and maybe down to somewhere more interesting.

Bilbo swallowed but found his throat incredibly dry because at that exact moment the man's blue eyes glanced at him, locking in eye contact and Bilbo almost choked on absolutely nothing.

Then those eyes glanced down... Oh no. And Bilbo supposed that no matter how big his reaction was to this mystery jogger, Smaug would take the Biggest Reaction Award and the little monster tugged suddenly in Bilbo's slack grip, and ran directly towards the hottest man Bilbo had ever seen. 

And then Smaug promptly bit the man on his beautiful legs. And then pissed on the man's Nikes. While continuing to hang onto a perfect calf with jagged teeth.

"Smaug!! No! Bad horrible dog!! Absolutely unacceptable behaviour, oh my lord, I am so sorry sir, please," babbled Bilbo, "he isn't even my dog he's my friend's dog, so even though I would rather throw him into the ocean, I don't think I can, oh god he won't let go of your leg."

Bilbo was on his knees on the pavement, trying to get a hold of Smaug without hurting the man, while people on the boardwalk passed by them, adding buckets to Bilbo's embarrassment.

The man, who Bilbo supposed was insane as he was hot, actually chuckled and smiled. Why on earth would anybody smile at being bitten by a dog and ugh, oh no the man's shoes. Bilbo bit his lip, could he replace them? What if they couldn't be replaced? How unique were shoes?

"Hello," came a deep voice above him. Bilbo looked up and the man's head was shadowing the sun and it was like being looked at by some kind of Californian god, decked in a halo and dripping sweat and oh god, Bilbo could definitely see the man's nipples.

"Er," responded a red-faced Bilbo, while Smaug growled, still latched on. "Hullo."

The man squatted down, and Smaug yipped and let go, suddenly hiding behind Bilbo. Bilbo was glad to see that the man wasn't bleeding. However he faced a bigger problem because Bilbo was now face to face with this man, their noses almost touching.

Oh dear, now he's smiling at me, thought Bilbo. God this man's gorgeous. His eyes are so blue... Oh and I think he just said something. Respond you idiot, he'll think you're an idiot!

"Um, could you say that again?"

"I'm Thorin, what's your name?"

"Baggins, Bilbo Baggins."

The man stuck out his hand, and Bilbo looked down at it, but his eyes caught because he could see down the man's shirt, to the hair on his chest and the sweat dripping down from the hollow of his throat and Bilbo swallowed before he could look at the hand. Ah. A handshake. Right-o. Move your hand now. Oh good, it's going well. Fuck, Thorin has a really nice hand. Firm, warm, and thick fingers. Oh bollocks, he's talking again. What did he say?

Suddenly Thorin leaned in and Bilbo's eyes widened and he could smell the sweat and musk of the jogger, and hair was pressing to his side as a deep rumble whispered, "Sorry, you didn't respond the first time I asked. I wanted to ask you if you knew Bard."

Bilbo for sure felt lips drag across the shell of his ear, down his earlobe, and good lord, did this man fucking nip him? Right on the Boardwalk! Cheek. Of course that didn't mean it wasn't great and now he was tenting in his shorts.

"Oh, yes! How did you know I knew him?"

Thorin laughed, a deep sound that shook his shoulders. He stood up and lent his hand to help Bilbo up. Bilbo took the time to stare at Thorin's biceps curl before standing on his two feet, before idiotically bending back down to pick up the handle of Smaug's leash and discreetly using it to hide the front of his shorts.

Smaug growled at Thorin from between Bilbo's legs. "Well I don't think just anybody would be left with Bard's little beast of a dog. Unless you stole him of course," he smirked.

"What?" sputtered Bilbo. "Stealing dogs like some kind of, I don't know, dog burglar?" 

Thorin's eyebrow raised questionably. "Well I don't know, are you a burglar? You would be able to sneak into a lot of places."

A dig against his height? Just because he was only tall enough to reach Thorin's chest... God what a chest. It just looked so... Meaty. And how would it feel under Bilbo's fingers, carding through his sweaty hair... Oh no, don't look at the man's chest, Bilbo. Look up, up! His face! Oh fuck, his face is too beautiful, how the fuck can his eyes be that piercing and his hair so dark and shiny, absolute fuckery this is. And he's talking again. You can do this, Bilbo. Concentrate ..

Without any clue to Bilbo's inner turmoil, Thorin continued. "I don't suppose you'd be sneaking into Bard's wedding next month?" said Thorin a bit too nonchalantly.

"Oh, you mean Bofur's wedding? I'm his best man." Bofur always insisted that it was his wedding, not Bard's because, and Bilbo quoted 'I wanted it more, and also I proposed'.

"Then I'll see you there. I'm at Table number 5." And with that the man started jogging backwards and waving at Bilbo before turning and showing that, why yes, the shorts were actually as tight in the back as they were in the front.

"Wait, what?" said Bilbo, but the only response he heard the continued growling of Smaug between his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I want in this world is to see sweaty buff joggers. Thanks for reading!


	2. Bench

Bilbo dialed again. No answer. Okay, one more time and if his friend didn't pick up the damn phone in the next ten seconds, Bilbo was going to throttle— oh good, Bofur picked up.

"Oi, Bilbo, kinda busy here," came Bofur's strained voice over the phone.

"Hello Bofur, this won't take a second, I just needed to ask you a quick question." Bilbo was sitting back on the park bench, with a docile Smaug lying on his lap. It was really too hot to be out today, but really where else was there to go. Ugh and he forgot to bring water. Smaug somehow seemed to enjoy the heat, he didn't even pant like the other dogs. Were terriers supposed to like the heat? Maybe he should talk to Bofur about getting Smaug to a vet...

But that was neither here or there because Bilbo had bigger issues on his mind. "Not five minutes ago I met Thorin, and I need you to tell me absolutely everything you know about him."

Did Bofur just gasp? "Thorin! I see, yeah he's Bard's old roommate back at Erebor U, the college up north in Canada. Well I guess..." A grunt, "they call them universities there."

"So he's... Canadian?"

"Um, honestly not sure, maybe... Ah, maybe Bard could tell you more."

"Fantastic, put him on."

"His mouth's occupied." Bofur then gave a whimper, which confused Bilbo. Why on earth was Bofur whimpering.

"What do you mean his mouth is occupi—" Bilbo's mind whirred as he realized what was going on and his mouth snapped shut with a click. And as the phone line became silent, he could hear Bofur's breath catch and sigh, and oh dear lord, why did Bofur pick up his phone. Bilbo then heard some distinctly wet sounds on the other line, sounds that he realized were there in the background the whole time.

"Oh, um yes, well don't bother Bard, I'll call you back soon!" Bilbo almost dropped his phone while trying to hang up. Oh god, he did not have to hear that. Why couldn't Bofur just text him back saying 'Sorry, getting a hummer from my fiancé ttyl' instead of picking up the phone. Worst of all, Bilbo didn't get any information about Thorin except that he was maybe Canadian? And went to Erebor U. Actually that was something.

Bilbo opened up his MiddleEarth app on his phone and found Bard's profile. Filter... By university... Ah-ha! Thorin Oakenshield. Oh no, why was his profile picture of him running a fucking marathon in a different, but just as devastating sweaty tanktop and shorts. 

Bilbo slowly put his phone down to his side, and looked up. Just focus on the leaves, Bilbo. Leaves are just leaves. Of course his traitorous mind decided to replay his interaction with Thorin and the fact that the man had put his lips to Bilbo's ears. Ears that were now hot and red. And it was already so hot today, so now it was quite unbearable. Bollocks.

Did he actually get nipped by Thorin's teeth? When Thorin whispered in his ear earlier, was he... being accosted? Because it sure felt like it. Who does that? Nobody! That's was... Well it was actually quite inappropriate. Yes. Bilbo had to set things right.

Bilbo picked up his phone and tapped on the Direct Message button.

Bilbo typed: Hello Thorin, it was good seeing you. However I would like to say that nipping my ear was quite rude. You should apologize for that. Sincerely, Bilbo.

Then he pressed send. With that done, he sighed and thought about the heat, and the overheated dog on his lap. They should really get out of here now, it was almost noon. 

Then he panicked. Was the heat messing with Bilbo's actual brain? Or did he not have one? He opened his phone again, oh god was it too late to delete his message? And yes, it definitely was because he could see Thorin was typing something. Never before had Bilbo cursed technology and it's ability to destroy his life through his own rashness.

If this were the good old days of letter writing, he would definitely not send a message like that and he could have burnt it, burnt his letter to hell and back and— oh god Thorin... Stopped typing.

That was even worse! Bilbo carefully picked up Smaug and placed the black terrier to the ground. "Okay Smaug! Let's go back home! Right now!" he said brightly to the dog.

Because Bilbo decided that from this point onward he would just speak to dogs. No more human interactions from this point onward.

The walk was sweltering, and sweat poured down, and at that point even the heat loving Smaug had started to pant. Bilbo stopped by the little water tins left out in front of the hipster restaurants by the beach selling baked macaroni and cheese, or some kind of waffle sausage hot dog combination. Bilbo couldn't really keep track of what was the trending food these days.

Halfway through the walk back, Bilbo realized that his destination might have a bit of an issue. He was returning Smaug to his owners. His owners who Bilbo called before and heard their, ahem, private moments.

Bilbo wished he could turn off his blushing because it just made him feel more hot and dizzy. I need a bench, Bilbo thought to himself.

Smaug apparently did not think about finding a bench. Smaug probably thought about how to Bilbo's miserable life shift from horrid to terrible on an hourly basis. Like maybe five minutes every hour. Which in dog time would be like what, half an hour of plotting? In any case, Smaug went with his usual plan of: Drag Bilbo Around.

So Smaug did. The dog tugged on the leash hard and with a strength that did not belong to a tiny black terrier, pulled a full grown man behind him.

"Smaug, I, Don't, Enjoy, Being, Pulled!" said Bilbo between panting breaths, his feet stumbling, but he dared not let go of the leash. I simply won't have the strength to catch that damned dog if I let go, he thought to himself. I'll have to explain to Bard and Bofur that yes, I did lose the dog and that I will certainly replace it with a better one yes, we will name her Daisy and she will be a kind soul who doesn't bite or... And continuing that line of thinking, Bilbo was tempted to almost let go and find out how much it cost to adopt a new non-Smaug dog from the shelter.

Holy shit, no, no no no, it couldn't be. But it was. Bilbo noted the broad shoulders, the messy bun, and the sweat-drenched back of a now topless, heavens above, topless Thorin sitting on a bench, with Smaug rapidly approaching on Thorin's side.

"Oh no you don't," grunted Bilbo, tugging hard. Smaug seemed to really want to get a bite out of Thorin, and was growing fiercely.

Thorin looked up and blue eyes caught Bilbo, and the man waved with a thick arm, which did interesting things to the movement of Thorin's chest. Bilbo swallowed and let go. Smaug bounded towards Thorin and then, thankfully didn't bite the man, but merely his shoe.

Bilbo walked forward, never breaking eye contact, before sitting down on the bench, Smaug now content to sit on the ground and nibble on the jogger's Nikes. Bilbo looked down quickly and picked up the end of the leash. Then he looked back up to blue, blue eyes set in a face of a man he really wanted to take home right now. Immediately. But also no, because that was inappropriate, bad Bilbo, bad.

"Hi again," said Thorin, smiling, while taking deep breaths so his chest heaved. The man must have just finished running. Bilbo looked down at his chest, which was covered in dark hair that was dripping sweat. All of Thorin was glistening in the sun moving with his deep breaths. Bilbo saw sweat drip off of a nipple, and he swallowed.

There were curling lines of words wrapped on the side of Thorin's torso, tattooed small and delicate on ribs, a detail that Bilbo didn't notice before but was instantly curious as to what it said, but he had to look back up to the man's face rather than ogle at this sports shorts model.

Bilbo was sure that he was not glistening like Thorin. Instead Bilbo was probably having drooping curls and sweating from his pits. And oh god, he wasn't talking again. Gah!

"Hullo," responded Bilbo, a second too late for a regular human interaction between two regular humans, but perfect for re-introductions between an idiot and a sweaty god wearing only shorts and running shoes. "There. Thorin... How are you?"

Nailed it. Talking like a regular person.

But despite nailing the Human Interaction, why was Thorin staring at him like that? Why wasn't Thorin responding? Maybe Bilbo didn't quite get it right. Quickly, review it Bilbo, why did Thorin not respond? Was there something, oh no there was something on his face. 

"What's on my face?" blurted Bilbo

Thorin looked taken aback. "What? Oh there's nothing on your face." Then a raised eyebrow. "Should there be?"

Thorin's hand reached out and Bilbo's heart quickened, and then fingers were on his cheeks, and it was like the air became clear crystal and that clarity entered Bilbo's mind, turning his mind to glass.

Bilbo felt Thorin's entire palm cup his cheek now, warm from the sun and from Thorin's own heat, as if the man was a sun himself, a fire next to him. Thorin felt hotter than this summer day, and his palm rough and hot.

Bilbo leaned into it and closed his eyes. The sun was too bright, Thorin was too bright. The Englishman turned his face into the palm, his lips on Thorin. It was so strange, this hot day that never ended. Bilbo wanted to sleep, wrapped up in arms.

Wait, what, wrapped up in arms? Bilbo blinked. How did he... But yes, he was pressed up against Thorin, against a muscled chest with just the right amount of give. He could feel Thorin's sweat soak into his shirt, and his face was pressed into Thorin's beard, and pushing into the crook of Thorin's neck. Warm arms were around his waist and hands were on his shoulders.

Bilbo snapped his head up and looked up to an astonished Thorin, whose eyebrows went up. Bilbo's heart raced and that's when he realized his hands were on Thorin's actual chest and Bilbo confirmed his theory that, yes, Thorin's pecs were perfectly soft and hairy and that, yes, Bilbo was able to die from embarrassment.

Pushing himself off so hard he almost fell off the bench, Bilbo stuttered out an apology. "Oh my, I believe it has been too hot, I guess I fainted, just a bit. And that's perfectly fine because it's so hot. You see. But you're hot too. Not that... I mean attractive hot... But that it's hot temperature-wise alongside the fact that you're attractive."

Thorin stared. Bilbo continued talking, while behind the scenes in his mind, the 'Do Not Keep Talking' signal was blaring at full mental volume, which sounded like Bilbo shouting 'Shut up, you dunce!' over and over again, brain cells desperately trying to find the lever that shut up Bilbo's mouth that seemed to never find enough feet to swallow.

"And... and you're really too nice to allow Smaug to get away with nipping at you like that, but also," Bilbo took a breath finally, "Speaking of nipping would like to know if you saw my message. Because I sent you a message. Then you left me on read. Which, was rather rude I would say, and I believe I deserve an answer."

It was Bilbo's turn to stare. "Well?"

Thorin looked away, his face suddenly serious. The man didn't respond, and seemed to be thinking. Or maybe it was brooding. God, Thorin looked hot while he was brooding. "Let me think of my answer first. I don't want to give the wrong one." 

The man stood up, and Bilbo got front row seats to Thorin in profile which did funny things to his stomach. Then Thorin started to walk away.

Bilbo sputtered on the bench and stared at the man. Was he not coming back? Wait, what? Below him, Smaug whined, missing his new chew toy.

"Thorin!! Are you running away?" shouted Bilbo, his hand reaching for Thorin's. Holding their hands together.

The buff man started, before turning around, the sweaty tank top tucked in his shorts spinning. "No, I'll be back. Just wait there for me. Please."

Thorin looked at their intertwined hands, his face softening and gave it a squeeze. Then Bilbo saw the man run from him again, leaving him on another park bench with a dog nipping at his tired legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee woo wee woo, my brain is rotting, you can thank the fermentation of my brain for this chapter, peace!


End file.
